


Coming, Potter?

by LaLionne (otayuriistheliteralbest)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Blow Jobs, Drarry, Enthusiastic Consent, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Idiots in Love, M/M, Porn With Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling, Shameless Smut, Switching, magical aftercare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 15:41:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21478786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otayuriistheliteralbest/pseuds/LaLionne
Summary: Harry played with a loose thread in the couch cushion near Draco’s foot, and Draco felt this heavy weight of unspoken words between them in that moment. Harry looked up at him through heavy lashes, and Draco’s breath caught in his throat. The rough, calloused hands traced along the swirling pattern on the cushion, tracing closer and closer to Draco, skirting his knee, his calf, his exposed ankle where his trouser leg had ridden up. Harry never touched him, but Draco felt every fibre of his being quivering with anticipation.---Who knew that a stormy night and reading the same few pages of his book for over a month while he salivated over Harry Potter's arse could lead to this? Either way, Draco wasn't about to complain.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 173
Collections: Harry/Draco Owlpost 2019





	Coming, Potter?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SnowyK](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowyK/gifts).

> Absolutely, completely shameless smut, with only the slightest bit of plot at the beginning. ;) Enjoy!! Thank you to Vix for helping me figure out what to write, and to Jes for reading everything over and helping me come up with the ever-evil summary. 
> 
> This fic is for SnowyK. I hope you like it!! <3

It was nasty out. Draco couldn’t think of a better way to describe it, and he honestly didn’t care enough to think on the sky opening, sheets of sleet coming down on the grounds of Hogwarts. He was perfectly content to curl up next to the fireplace in the Eighth Year common room with a good book and so very happy to not be on the Slytherin Quidditch team anymore. 

Draco glanced up over the top of his book, watching the crowd of other Eighth Year students chatting and playing games at the scattered tables in the warmth of the common room. The first few months of the new school year had been awkward and a little stilted; many of them had spent the summer months helping to rebuild Hogwarts, and the castle was different to them now. Not everyone felt safe there anymore, and Draco knew many who had been shipped off to Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, one or two even to Ilvermony in the United States. Anything to leave behind the memories of the battle fought and friends lost in the fight against Voldemort. Draco didn’t blame them, but he also couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. His last night in the castle at the end of his sixth year had been one he never wanted to remember, and the year leading up to it had been so genuinely horrifying that he just wanted to blot it all out of his memory.

Which is how he ended up here, holed up on a couch, not quite interacting with his fellow classmates. They were all laughing and chattering, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to try to join them. Draco wasn’t sure just how they would react, and he found it better to stay off on his own. Then he didn’t have to worry about being rejected.

Draco was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t realize that someone was standing next to him until Harry cleared his throat next to him. Draco jerked, his book falling to the floor in his surprise.

“Merlin, Potter, warn a wizard before sneaking up on him, wouldn’t you?”

Draco was craning his neck a little to see Harry's face, screwed up in confusion in that adorable way he had about himself. Draco had known he’d had a crush on Harry Potter since their sixth year, but he wasn’t about to admit it to anyone.

“Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose of sneaking up on someone, though?”

“What?” Draco asked, confused.

“Warning someone before sneaking up on them. Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose?”

“...Shut up, Potter. What do you want?”

Harry was smiling infuriatingly now, in a way that made Draco want to just kiss the smirk off his face, just to see what would happen. 

“But Malfoy, how can I both shut up and tell you why I’m over here?”

Draco groaned and lay back on the couch, rubbing his eyes wearily. 

“Tell me what you want so that I can get back to reading my book, Potter. I’m getting tired of this conversation.”

He wasn’t, not really, but he wasn’t about to let Harry in on that little secret. There was a tapping on his foot and he flinched, looking over to Harry, who was staring expectantly at him.

“Are you gonna let me sit down? Budge over.”

Draco cautiously tucked his feet in so that the cushion was free for Harry and scooched so that he was sitting up, propped against the plush cushions.

“So, are you going to tell me why you’ve been reading the same book for a month and never seem to manage to turn more than a couple of pages?”

Draco blanched at Harry's words. He didn’t think anyone had noticed, least of all Harry himself. 

“Er, what makes you say that?” _ Have you been watching me as much as I’ve been watching you? _ he wanted to ask, but couldn’t find the words to do so.

Harry played with a loose thread in the couch cushion near Draco’s foot, and Draco felt this heavy weight of unspoken words between them in that moment. Harry looked up at him through heavy lashes, and Draco’s breath caught in his throat. The rough, calloused hands traced along the swirling pattern on the cushion, tracing closer and closer to Draco, skirting his knee, his calf, his exposed ankle where his trouser leg had ridden up. Harry never touched him, but Draco felt every fibre of his being quivering with anticipation.

“You can’t tell me that you haven’t been watching me, _ Draco_. I’ve felt your eyes boring holes in the back of my head, I’ve caught you staring at me from across the room, while you pretended to read. You know, all you had to do was talk to me.”

“I had no reason to believe you’d w-want to talk to me,” Draco said in a hushed whisper, unable to keep the aroused stutter from his voice. He scanned the room out of the corner of his eye, and no one seemed to be paying attention to them. This conversation felt far more intimate than the setting could allow. Draco’s cock was beginning to twitch with interest as Harry swirled his finger millimetres away from the arch of his foot, just close enough to feel that he was there, but far enough away to keep from touching. 

“Well, Draco, now is your chance,” Harry said, just as quietly, then a little louder he asked, "Wanna borrow a new book? I have some in my room that have to be more interesting than a treatise on Nostradamus’s predictions.”

Heads had turned when Harry’s voice raised in volume, with more than one curious onlooker no doubt wondering why Potter and Malfoy were talking about books. Draco flushed at the attention. 

"Sure," Draco said curtly, standing up and grabbing his book from where it had fallen. He made a beeline for the spiral stair that led to the boys’ private bedrooms—one of the perks of having the status of an “Eighth Year” student, and something Draco was grateful for more now than ever before, if what he thought was about to happen, was. He touched the entry archway of the staircase and glanced back over his shoulder to Harry, who still hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch by the fireplace.

“Coming, Potter?” Draco asked, lacing his voice with annoyance so that the other students wouldn’t have more to question them over. Hopefully.

Without another word, Harry followed close behind him. All of the Eighth Years’ bedrooms were up tightly-spiralling staircases, and for some unknown reason, Harry had been given the top floor room with his own private landing. Draco liked to think that it was to make him suffer, having to go up and down so many stairs every day, but right in that moment, he appreciated the privacy. He waited at the top of the stairs for Harry, who slid past him far closer than necessary in the enclosed space, opening the door with a touch of his wand. All rooms were keyed to the specific signature of the person’s wand, so Draco couldn’t have entered Harry’s room without him.

“So, where are these books you think are just _ so _ much better than mine, Potter?” Draco asked, keeping up the pretense more for his nerves than anything else. The door clicked behind him and Harry turned to press Draco against the closed door by the shoulder. Draco could feel the heat of his gaze, the strength in the corded muscles of his arms.

“Do you want this, Draco? Want me?” Harry pressed closer, not quite covering Draco’s smaller frame with his own, seeking permission from Draco before he did anything. Just that little fact made Draco melt against the hard surface of the door.

“Fuck, Potter, _ yes_,” Draco moaned. “More than anything.”

The calculating smile that spread across Harry’s face flooded Draco’s body with desire. He took a calculated risk; Harry was boxing him in, and could jump free if he wanted to. Draco grabbed Harry’s hips and pressed his erection against Harry’s, now visible in the tented fabric. They both groaned at the contact, and whatever tightly-wound thread that had been stopping them before snapped. Harry surged forward, pressing his mouth against Draco’s in a rush of desire. Draco ran his hands along every inch of Harry that he could reach, memorizing the feel of the other man. He tugged at Harry’s House tie, pulling him closer as he untucked Harry’s crisp white shirt to drag his nails across the smooth muscles of his back. Harry bit back a groan, grinding himself against Draco. 

They moved together frantically, and Draco lost track of time, didn’t know who it was who pulled them away from the door and to the four-poster bed. They shed their clothes as they went, Harry cursing when he trapped his shoe on his foot in his haste to remove his trousers. Harry stumbled and nearly fell, trying to get the offending leather off his foot, making Draco choke back a laugh. Harry raised an eyebrow at Draco.

“Find my struggles funny, do you?”

Something in his tone made Draco flush.

“Pants off, I want to see you,” Harry said, the commanding voice faltering slightly. 

This was really it, they both realized in that moment. Draco shifted up on the bed, his movements slow in anticipation.

“This is still okay, right?” Harry asked, noticing Draco’s hesitation.

Draco bit his lip and nodded. “It is, I just...I’ve thought about this. For far longer than I’d care to admit.” His thumbs traced the edges of his pants, tugging on the elastic. He glanced up at Harry’s face through shuttered lashes. Harry’s tongue darted out to lick his lips, and that was all the encouragement Draco needed. He slid the fabric down his hips and kicked it away. He stroked his erection with one hand, easing the desire he was feeling in that moment. That seemed to kick-start Harry’s brain. He shucked the remainder of his clothing and joined Draco on the bed, covering Draco’s body with his own. They both groaned when their erections rubbed together, and Harry pressed down against Draco, who grabbed his arse without a second thought to adjust him, rutting against one another. Harry bent closer, his kisses more meaningful and powerful in that moment. He slowed and then stilled against Draco.

“How do you want to do this?” Harry asked, panting. Draco would barely function, he was so overwhelmed with desire, and it took him a moment for his brain to catch up.

“I— what?” Draco asked, unsure what Harry meant.

“Do you want to fuck me? Vice versa? Do you want me to blow you? I really want my mouth on you, and there’s time for more later,” Harry rambled, his voice coming out in a hushed whisper against Draco’s skin.

Overwhelmed with the options Harry presented to him, his mind caught on one thing. “I want your mouth on me, too. And I don’t care, top or bottom. I like both.”

Harry didn’t even hesitate, pressing open-mouthed kisses along Draco’s jaw and down his chest. Draco twitched, his abs clenching and unclenching when Harry reached his stomach. Harry didn’t waste any time when he reached Draco’s cock, pausing only for a moment to admire it before lapping at the tip with his tongue. Draco gasped, his hips pressing upwards, and Harry took that has his cue, taking Draco into his mouth easily. 

As a blowjob, it was rather inelegant, the pressure of Draco’s cock hitting the back of Harry’s throat making him gag a few times, but all Draco could think was, _ so hot, fuck, yes, more, _ and apparently he was saying those things aloud as his hands clawed for something to hold onto on the bed. Harry set a steady pace, taking as much of Draco into his mouth as he could, and it was all Draco could do to keep from bucking up into that wet heat.

Harry reached out a hand and Wandlessly Accio’d the lube from his bedside table, all without breaking his stride on Draco’s cock. Harry flicked the cap open with his thumbnail and drizzled the lube onto his fingers, coating them liberally, before shifting, spreading Draco’s legs open wider so that he could reach between them. He traced his fingers against Draco’s hole, making him gasp, arching his back. Harry popped off of Draco’s cock, grinning up at him.

“Eager, are we?” Harry asked, pressing his lips against the inside of Draco’s thigh. Draco’s cock twitched, precome dripping to his stomach.

“Shut up, Potter,” Draco ground out through clenched teeth.

Harry waggled a lube-coated finger at him. 

“Uh, uh, uh, Draco. Call me Harry or you won’t be getting a single finger inside you, pressing against your prostate until you want to scream and beg for my cock to replace it.”

A loud, keening noise emitted from Draco’s throat. It was a sound he didn’t even know the human body could make, but he had just done it. Harry’s eyes widened.

“Fuck, Draco.”

Harry pressed his finger against Draco’s rim, running it along the sensitive muscle and making Draco’s hips twitch at the contact. 

“Ung—Harry, please, more,” Draco gasped.

At hearing his name, Harry smiled and pressed his finger in slowly, allowing Draco to become accustomed to the intrusion. He stayed in his kneeling position between Draco’s legs, intermittently pressing kisses and bites to the inside of Draco’s thigh as he worked his fingers into Draco. It took him a few tries to make contact with Draco’s prostate, but when he did, Draco made that high pitched keening noise again, and he grabbed blindly for Harry’s unoccupied hand on his leg so that he could have something to anchor himself to.

“Merlin, Draco, you look so stunning like that,” Harry said, awed. His head was resting against Draco’s knee as he watched Draco’s body reacting to what he was doing to it. “I really want to fuck you right now.”

Draco sucked in a breath and let it out shakily.

“Please—” Draco said, his voice cutting off at the press and swirl of Harry’s fingers inside him. “Please fuck me, Harry.”

Harry pulled his fingers out of Draco and shakily stroked his cock, coating its length with lube. Draco pulled his knees up to his chest, exposing himself fully to Harry’s heated gaze. Harry leaned forward, bracing his shoulder against Draco’s raised leg, and lined himself up with Draco’s twitching hole. He pressed forward, and the burn and press of Harry’s cock entering him burned deliciously. Harry took his time, pressing in and out, easing himself into Draco with a patience Draco never would have expected of him.

When Harry bottomed out, he stilled, his hips pressed tight against Draco’s raised arse. He panted hard, his head drooping against Draco’s knee.

“Okay there, Harry?” Draco asked, squirming with the feeling of being so fucking full.

“Yeah, just… give me a moment. I’ve been thinking about this for so long, and if I move right now, I’m going to come embarrassingly fast.”

Harry’s admission sent a thrill through Draco’s body. He clenched involuntarily around Harry’s cock, making the other man gasp. He started moving then, pressing in and out slowly, carefully, taking his time to take Draco apart bit by bit. Draco reached for his achingly hard cock, the pressure building as Harry picked up the pace. Draco shifted when his legs started to cramp, raising them to rest on Harry’s shoulders.

“Fuck, Draco, how are you so flexible?” Harry gasped, bending Draco in half to kiss him desperately. The shift in angle sent a shiver of pleasure coursing through Draco, and he came hard, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes in the overwhelming sensations. He clenched around Harry’s cock again as he came, and that was all it took to bring Harry over the edge with him, a soft cry on his lips.

They stayed where they were for a moment, breathing hard. Draco was completely overwhelmed, his brain unable to process more than _ fuck, that was amazing. _ Then his legs started to feel the pull of muscles stretched taut.

“Erm, Harry, I know my arse is amazing, but could you move? I’m losing feeling in my legs.”

That seemed to make Harry realize where he was.

“Oh, right. Yeah, hang on.” 

The burn of Harry’s cock pulling out of Draco sizzled in an aching sort of way. He had never been so thoroughly fucked before in his life, and all he could think about was when they could do it again. Harry collapsed on the bed next to Draco and pulled him in close, nuzzling against Draco’s sweat-soaked hair and kissing along his jawline.

“That was amazing. _ You’re _ amazing.”

Draco laughed. He liked this Harry Potter, pliable and contented in post-coital bliss.

“Just wait til I get feeling back in my body, and I’ll show you just how flexible I can be. I’ll blow your mind with my cock.”

Harry hugged him tighter, one leg slung over Draco’s.

“Mmm, I’d like that.”

A crack of thunder broke the peaceful silence, making the both of them jump with a start. They had forgotten all about the storm raging outside, too hyper focused on each other’s bodies. Draco started laughing, squirming to get more comfortable. His laughter turned into a grimace as the cooling come on his stomach and in his arse started to pool and drip. He poked at Harry, who was quickly falling asleep against him.

“No moving, just cuddles,” Harry said in response to Draco’s squirms.

“There is come all over me and I am sweaty and gross. I need to take a shower.”

Harry’s response was to burrow closer to Draco, which while it was cute, he was getting decidedly stickier the longer they lay there. He could savour cuddly Harry another time.

“Harry Potter, if you don’t move right now, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

Harry lifted a bleary eye to look Draco in the face and murmured a spell under his breath. Draco felt a wave of power, and suddenly all the fluids he’d felt coating both Harry and himself had just vanished. Draco raised an eyebrow at Harry.

“I’m going to just gloss over how you just cast Wandless magic so you could keep snuggling with me.”

Harry closed his eyes again, a pleased smile on his face.

“Good. Now shh, I want to sleep.”

“Blankets?”

A second later, they were covered with a thick quilt, the lights were out, and Harry was lightly snoring on Draco’s shoulder.

Sleet hit the bedroom window in a clatter of noise that drowned out Harry’s snores. _ Well, it could certainly be worse, _ Draco thought, and succumbed to sleep, ensconced in the warmth of Harry’s arms.


End file.
